


Butterscotch Tears

by melodramatic



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Black market dealing, Coffee Shop, Graphic scenes of sexual violence, Library, Minor death(s), Multi, There's fluff I promise, Tyler cries a lot, be careful, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodramatic/pseuds/melodramatic
Summary: In which Tyler never quite stopped being afraid, but Josh was a really good listener.





	1. Chapter 1

Tyler was five years old when his mother wouldn't answer him. She was laying on the couch, her eyes blinking slowly. Her chest rose and fell, and when Tyler shook her arm she slowly turned her head.

"Mom, I'm hungry," He said. His stomach grumbled, as if to back up his claim.

She simply blinked at him and then turned back up to the ceiling. The air in the house was smoky and humid. Tyler's underdeveloped lungs were in pain, but it was alright, because this was all he knew.

He coughed, and his mother blinked. Giving up on getting her attention, Tyler made his way to the refrigerator. There was a carton of eggs, half a gallon of milk, and two tortillas. 

Tyler closed the refrigerator, and opened it again.

There was a carton of eggs, half a gallon of milk, and two tortillas. 

He sighed, taking one of the tortillas and putting it in the microwave. Except when he pressed the buttons to warm it up, nothing happened. He tried again, and nothing.

He turned the knob on the stove.

Nothing.

He made his way back to his mother.

"Mom, the things aren't turning on."

Her eyes were closed, and she had a small smile on her face. She looked relaxed, but Tyler couldn't sympathize.

"Mom. Mom, can you hear me?"

She turned her face toward him, opening her eyes and glancing at his feet, his torso, his eyes, his hair. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a tortured laugh.

Tyler's face contorted, "Stop. You're being weird."

She laughed at him, and looked back up to the ceiling, stretching her arms above her head. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, even though there was nothing behind her. Tyler took a step back.

She looked back at him, "You need to go potty?" Her words were groggy and slurred.

Tyler shook his head, "No, I'm hungry. And the stuff in the kitchen doesn't work."

"C'mon," She got up from the couch, and grabbed Tyler by the wrist, "Let's go potty."

Tyler tried to detangle himself, "I don't need to go potty!"

She wasn't listening to him. Her grip was tight on Tyler's wrist, and she didn't let go until they were in the bathroom. She stood by the door, looking at the shower curtain. It was supposed to be white, but it was so old that it had turned an ugly shade of beige. 

"Mom, I'm _hungry_ , I just want food."

She put her back against the bathroom door and sank down, her eyes fluttering closed. He went up to her and shook her shoulder. She did not open her eyes and now Tyler was not only hungry, but stuck in a bathroom with an incapacitated mother. He sat down on top of the toilet, and put his chin in his hands, and there was no way he was strong enough to move his mother from where she blocked the door, so the only thing he could do was wait.

So he waited.

And waited.

His head was dizzy and his stomach no longer rumbled by the time his mother awoke. She looked around the bathroom, her eyes squinted.

She looked at her son who was in the same exact position he was a few hours ago.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice scratchy.

Tyler looked down to his feet, "I was waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to move, mom. I wanted food, but you taked me in here."

She blinked her eyes at him and then stood up slowly, leaving the bathroom and going back into the living room.

"Can you make me something?" He asked, following her.

"Can you shut up, please? Jesus Christ, you're so loud," She said, shooting him a dirty look. 

Tyler pouted and receeded into his room, if one could even call it that. It was actually an oversized closet that his mother didn't use, so she threw a mattress into it and told him that's where he slept. He layed down and stared up at his bare ceiling, and it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before he heard the front door open, and then slam shut.

He raced into the living room, and his mom was nowhere to be seen, so he looked out the window and saw her car pulling out of the driveway, speeding away the second it got on he road.

He assumed she'd be back in a few hours, or maybe by the next day at the latest which was usually how it went. He took a deep breath through his nose, and coughed.

He made his way back to the fridge and opened it.

A carton of eggs, half a gallon of milk, and two tortillas. 

He grabbed a tortilla and bit into it, surprised to find it wasn't very cold at all. He took the second one and fit them together, pretending it was a regular sandwhich. 

The sink was filled to the brim with unwashed dishes, so he grabbed the cleanest cup he could find and filled it with warm milk. He sat on the couch, and in silence, he ate. 

There was a white powder residue on the coffee table in front of him, a few pills, and a bag of what looked like dried leaves. His mother always told him not to touch any of it - it wasn't candy, she said. It was special medicine.

He sniffled and continued to eat.

....

Tyler was woken from his slumber by someone rooting around the few things he had in his room. He sat up on his elbows, trying to make out what he saw in the dark. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was his mother. She was stuffing all of his things into a garbage bag.

"Hey, that's my stuff," He said, only half-awake.

She shot a look towards him and put a hand over her heart, startled.

"Oh, you're awake. Listen, I'm gonna send you somewhere."

"What?" Tyler asked, his eyes opening wide, "Where?"

"Just - here," She shoved the garbage bag full of his things toward him, and he stood up and held it close to his chest.

"Wait, where-"

"Stop asking questions, Tyler. Get your stuff and follow me."

He nodded, and followed her out of his room. They walked outside, and the freezing cold temperatures showed themselves in form of frost on the grass. They approached a dark van that was sat in their driveway, and a tall man was leaning against the driver's door.

He gave a long, surverying look at Tyler, and he started to feel rather uncomfortable.

"Well?" His mother asked, calling the man to her attention, "Where is it?"

He silently walked to the back of his van and popped the trunk, unloading a medium-sized box and handed it to her. 

She huffed out a breath when he dropped it into her hands.

"This is it?" She asked.

The man crossed his arms, "You got another kid?"

She shot him a look, and turned around without another word, heading into the house with her package. Tyler tried to follow her, but the man stopped him, with a hand on his shoulder. 

"Nah, little man. You're with me."

Tyler looked up at him, and yanked his shoulder away, "No, I'm not. You-" he turned to where his mom was walking into the front door, "Mom! Mom!"

She didn't turn around, and Tyler had no proof that she had even heard him. The blinds shut, and he could hear the lock on the door click.

The man picked Tyler up in one swoop, and buckled him into the middle seat, with little resistance from the small boy. Tyler was so confused - so completely baffled by whatever was going on, that he was simply staring at his front door, expecting his mom to come out and get him anytime. Maybe it was a dream, maybe there was some sort of mistake, but he could not wrap his brain around it. He looked around the van, and found that he was not alone.

There was a small blond girl in the back. She appeared to be sleeping, but she was no doubt around the same age as he was.

He looked back up to the front, where the man in the dark attire started to drive.

"Where are we going?" Tyler asked.

The man didn't answer.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked again.

The man sighed, "We're going to the dentist."

Tyler looked out of the window, and then back at the man through the rear-view mirror. 

"Will my mom be there?" He asked.

The man looked through the mirror to make eye contact with Tyler, and it was in that moment he decided he didn't like the way this man pierced him with his eyes. He looked down at the plastic bag in his hands.

The man looked away, ignoring Tyler's question yet again.

The sun was about halfway up in the sky when they finally reached their destination. The man pulled into the driveway of a run-down house, that was bigger than Tyler's. It had a boarded up window all the way to the left, and there was a significant amount of paint chipping, but other than that, it was a relatively normal house.

Tyler looked behind him, and the little girl was awake now, except she was completely silent. As Tyler made eye contact with her, he realized that she was most likely a bit older than him - maybe ten, or eleven. She was very small in frame, though, and her eyes were a soft shade of blue that fought against the dark rings around them. 

"This doesn't look like the dentist," Tyler commented, as the man put the car in park. Once again, he did not reply.

He opened the door, and escorted Tyler and the girl out, and they made their way to the front door.

The man knocked three times in succession.

"Who is it?" A voice behind the door asked.

"It's me. Open up."

When the door cracked open, a man stuck his neck out, looking at all three of them before unlocking the door fully, and letting them in. 

"Aw, and what's your name?" The man asked, bending down to Tyler's eye-height.

Tyler clutched tightly to his plastic bag, and his heart was racing out of his chest. He wanted to go home. 

"Tyler," He mumbled.

The man who was almost a polar opposite of the man who drove them there, put his large hand on Tyler's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you, Tyler." His hand snaked down to Tyler's elbow, and then down to his torso. He slowly worked his way back up.

"You're a skinny little boy," He said, and his eyes held a look that made Tyler want to cry.

He looked up at the girl behind him, "And who could forget about little miss Maggie?"

She simply stared at him with blank eyes, and Tyler began to wonder if she knew how to talk at all.

"Hey," The tall man said, snapping the large man back to his attention, "I have places to be."

The large man gave the tall man a fat envelope, and he thumbed through it, before shaking his hand, and heading back out to his van. 

"Let me show you to your room, Tyler," He said, just as another man appeared from upstairs.

The other man wordlessly guided Maggie by the small of her back to a room that Tyler and the large man were headed in the opposite direction of.

"My room? But I don't wanna stay here. I wanna go home." Tyler protested.

"This is your new home," The man told him.

Tyler shook his head, tears stinging his eyes, "I don't get it - where's my mom?"

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You'll get used to it, don't worry."

The man took him into a room that was fairly large. It was nicely decorated, and it was more welcoming than the room that Tyler used to occupy, so that was a plus. Except he quickly learned that he was not going to be staying here. The man grabbed the bed by the edges and dragged it, revealing a square in the floor. He opened it, and told Tyler to climb down the ladder.

And the basement was dingy. It smelled like Tyler's old house, and it was poorly lit. There were large cages in the corner, and a few mattresses scattered about. 

"This is where you'll be sleeping," He said, pointing to the farthest mattress. 

Tyler set his bag down beside it, and the man was standing far too close for comfort.

"I need to wash your clothes," He said.

"These ones?" Tyler asked, pinching his shirt.

He nodded, "Yeah. They're dirty. So, just take them off, and I'll wash them for you, okay?"

"I don't wanna to take them off. I wanna go home."

The man clenched his jaw, "This is your home. Now take your clothes off."

"No!" Tyler said, stomping his foot. A tear came down his cheek, as he crossed his arms in defince.

Suddenly, the man pushed Tyler down onto the mattress, "I said take them off!" He demanded, yanking at Tyler's shirt.

"No, no - stop!" Tyler squirmed and yelled, but the man was far stronger than him, so of course, he won. He stripped Tyler of his shirt, his pants, his shoes, his socks and even his underwear, leaving the small boy in nothing, and his eyes started to burn from where tears were falling faster than the rain.

"I'll be back down in a few minutes," The man said, getting up from Tyler and heading back the way he came.

Tyler curled up into a ball, shivering, as he laid still on the rough mattress. He wanted to go home, he wanted to lay in his own bed, and he wanted to see his mom. She was never actually a source of comfort, but until this moment, she had been the only real constant in his life. 

He hoped that the next person to come down would let him out, but all he could really do was shiver and wait.

....

 There was no way for Tyler to know how much time had passed since he had been down there, alone, but he had gotten used to the cold temperature when another man came down.

"Hi, there, little boy," He said, coming up by Tyler's side, "What's your name?"

"Tyler," He said, sitting up and putting his knees close together. The stranger scanned Tyler's body, before putting a hand on his knee.

"I wanna play a game with you, Tyler. But first you have to drink this," He took a small flask from his pocket, and handed it to Tyler.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Orange juice."

Tyler tried to peer into the small drinking hole, but it was too dark, and the liquid too minimal. So he put it to his mouth, and gulped it down.

He frowned, "That didn't taste like orange juice."

"It's a special kind of orange juice. Now lay down for me, okay?" He asked politely.

Tyler did as he was told, his bones suddenly feeling heavy and his brain, fuzzy. His vision began to spin slowly around him, and his eyelids were heavy, but it wasn't enough to put him to sleep.

It was just enough to stifle any movements from him while the man was making Tyler rather uncomfortable with the way he was being touched. He tried to push the hands away, but they came back with even more force. 

"Stop," He whispered, "Stop."

But the man must've not heard him, because he didn't stop, and there were foreign sensations flowing through Tyler's veins that made him want to rip himself open drain the blood that carried the feeling. 

A few minutes passed, and something gross, something sticky, was being shot onto Tyler's chest.

He squeezed his eyes tight, and his head was spinning so rapidly, that his entire body shut down, and the last thing he heard was footsteps, and the door to the hatch closing.

....

Tyler wasn't alone for long.

A few days passed by, but eventually another child joined him. It was Maggie. He recognized her walk, her tired eyes, and her greasy blond hair immediately as she climbed down the ladder and into the basement with him. She didn't talk at all - mostly just sat in the corner and stared blankly at the wall for hours on end. The only time she got up was when she was summoned, or when she went to the toilet in the corner to use the bathroom.

Tyler tried to get information out of her - he'd shake both of her shoulder, but her head would simply roll with the movement, and it scared Tyler. At one point, he thought she had died. But she got up when one of the men came down to get her.

"Why don't you talk?" He asked her at one point, not expecting a response.

She looked at him, but this time, she made an attempt at communication. She pointed to her mouth, and made a scissoring motion with her fingers.

He raised an eyebrow, "Huh?"

She looked at him for another moment, before turning back to the wall. Tyler crossed his arms and rested his head against the back wall, listening to the footsteps and chatter from upstairs.

He felt sick.

  
He didn't know what Maggie's scissoring motion meant, but he knew it wasn't good and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know why she didn't talk.

He felt sick, and his heart hurt.

He looked at Maggie again, "Do they do the same thing to you? What they do to me?"

She didn't look at him, but she nodded.

His stomach churned.

Tears fells from his eyes yet again, and they were salty. But not the good candy-like salty, they were salty like stale crackers and bad attitudes.

Later that night, Tyler pretended to be asleep while a man came down and went towards Maggie. He went under the sheets with her, and Tyler didn't know what to think when he heard skin slapping against skin, he heard deep groans and crying, and then he heard silence.

When the man left, he turned and looked at Maggie, who was sitting up now, tears silently streaming down her face. Tyler felt bad, but there was nothing he could do.

When he closed his eyes he didn't have to wonder what went on under the sheets.


	2. Chapter 2

Days turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years and Tyler was still trapped. Him and Maggie had become life preserves to one another. Tyler talked, while she nodded along, and when she cried, Tyler patted her on the back and promised her they'd get out someday.

She didn't seem to believe him, but then again he could never be sure, because he never heard her voice.

They were occasionally let out of the basement for special occassions, or if a new man came and that was just his preference. Tyler and Maggie bent to the will of the men, as did the other children that came and went from basement every now and again. All the while, however, Tyler and Maggie were devising a strategy to save each other.

They needed to get out of there.

Maggie knew where they kept the key to the basement door - she knew who had it. When he took her up to his room, she would steal it. It was Tyler's idea, but Maggie nodded along excitedly. She would steal it, and they would find a way to make it out.

Finally - a chance at leaving, a chance of flying out of this hellhole.

Tyler imagined what life would be like out there: He imagined it was always sunny, the people were nice and it wasn't just old, angry men, holding them down and forcing them to take something they had already given so many times.

Late at night, he whispered these dreams to Maggie.

"I can't wait to get out of here. I'll find my mom, and I can live with her. We'll sit and talk, and it'll be so nice. I bet she's changed by now. I bet she's different than she used to be," He said, laying on his mattress and facing the girl.

She frowned, and had an inquisitive look on her face.

"I know that she gave me to the man that took me here, but. I think it was an accident. I think he was supposed to take me to the dentist, instead."

Maggie continued to frown, and she looked down at the floor, tracing a pattern into it. She didn't respond (she never did), but Tyler had learned not to mind it at this point. At least she was listening to him, because that was better than nothing.

Tyler turned to face the wall, and closed his eyes. He dreamed of the sky, he dreamed of nice families eating dinner, and he dreamed of salvation.

His dreams were crushed the following morning.

Maggie dissapeared overnight, and Tyler woke up to shouting and screaming. He recognized the voice as one of the men that lived in the house. He was the one that always chose Tyler, and chose Tyler every morning, every evening, every night.

Sometimes he cut Tyler's veins while he was fucking him, getting off while watching the blood flow from his body. Sometimes he gave Tyler an outfit and told him to do things that made his whole body turn beat red.

Other times he hit Tyler, and smacked him around and then when the boy was hardly able to move anymore, the man forced himself onto him, rocking him back and forth until Tyler saw black spots behind his eyes.

And then when it was over, Tyler would lie still and stare up at the ceiling. No tears, no anger: just a deep, underlying agony.

So when he heard screaming, and saw that Maggie was missing, he quickly connected the peices.

He didn't shout. He knew shouting would only get him in trouble, so he put his hands over his ears and tucked his knees into his chest, not uncovering them until light came from above.

He looked up at where the basement door opened. At first, no one came down.

Until a body dropped suddenly, hitting the floor with a wet crunch. The basement door slammed shut.

 _Maggie, Maggie, Maggie_ , Tyler's heart pounded.

He crawled towards her, and saw that her eyes were open wide, but she wasn't moving, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her mouth was wide open, and bile rose up in Tyler's throat as he finally realized why she never spoke.

Her tongue was short and stubby, and it was stuck all the way in the back of her throat. Except it was lumpy and there were stitches on it - almost as if incisions were made at one point.

Tyler's entire face burned as he stared at her. She slowly closed her mouth and swallowed, and he looked back up at her eyes. They were still open, still searching for something beyond Tyler.

"Maggie? Are you okay?"

She focused her gaze on him. She said nothing, she signed nothing. Her chest did not rise and fall anymore.

"Maggie!" Tyler whisper-shouted, cradling her head in his arms. Her hair was splayed out all around her head, and her arms were limp at her side. Her gaze was still on Tyler, but it was no longer focused. It was almost as if her eyes had no real target, and were just wandering aimlessly. The muscles in her face didn't flinch when tears came streaming down Tyler's eyes, landing on her cheek.

But there was something else.

The back of her head was sticky. The same kind of sticky that the inside of Tyler's thighs felt when he woke up in the mornings, and discovered blood between his legs.

He laid her head back down gently, and his hands were covered in a wet, and dark substance.

There was so much blood. There was blood on his mattress, blood on the floor, and now blood on the back of Maggie's lifeless head.

Tyler choked on his own vomit.

They were going to leave. They were going to get out of there together. She knew all of his dreams, all of his hopes, and he told her everything. All of that knowledge was gone - all of her knowledge was gone.

Suddenly, there was a new sensation burning in Tyler's heart. Not another tear fell from his eyes as he dragged her body to the corner of the basement. He propped her up in the same position she always sat, and for a moment, he could pretend that she was still with him.

But she wasn't.

Tyler didn't bother wiping his blood-soaked hands before he made his way to the cages in the corner, testing out how easily the metal would bend.

....

Tyler didn't know what month it was, but he knew it was towards the end of the year when the basement got cold, and when he was let upstairs every so often, he could see snow falling from through the window.

It had been awhile, but Maggie's eyes still haunted him in his sleep, as he had thought of nothing else since that morning.

He also would think of their escape plan, and how he now had no choice but to carry though himself. He had his hands in the pockets of old sweatpants that had been provided for him, and he was getting a bit tall for them, but they were the only thing he had.

He was lucky to have these specific sweatpants, though, because the pockets were huge, and they perfectly concealed the sharp stabbing tool that Tyler had crafted from what he found laying around.

He was thirteen when he used it. His hands shook, but when the usual man came down into the basement one evening, Tyler struck him dead right before the man's orgasm. He collapsed directly onto Tyler, and Tyler pushed him off, quickly grabbing the few things he had and climbing up the basement ladder.

There was only one other person in the house at the time, and he peirced his back while he was sitting at his computer, looking up images that made Tyler feel more exposed than he already did.

There were now two dead bodies in the house, but Tyler was surprisingly calm. He took the man's wallet from his back pocket, and flipped through it. There was a one hundred dollar bill, and two twenties. He went around to other rooms, and cabinets in the house, collecting money from any wallets or envelopes that were laying around. He headed out of the house, having no actual place to go. He was free, but he was also in the middle of nowhere.

He didn't waste any time, sprinting in the opposite direction of the house, and into the woods. He didn't know which direction he was headed in, but he knew he was headed away from the hellhole and away from the mean men who raised him. He got relatively far, and broke out of the forest, only to find a busier road.

There were cars, and streetlights, and people walking their dogs and it was all just so... normal. So different, but so calm and so different than everything.

Tyler's knees were weak, and his chest was heaving.

Someone came up to him and ask if he was okay, but he didn't get to respond before he collapsed onto the ground, his mind racing with freedom, Maggie, dead bodies, and freedom.

....

He woke up in a hospital bed. There was an IV in his arm, and he was clean and in a hospital gown. The second he came to, he popped the needle from his veins, and stood up, before collapsing on the floor once again. He didn't get the chance to pick himself up before a nurse rushed to his side, laying him back down on the bed.

He was told not to move, he was here because he needed help. He was malnurished, and they were processing blood samples, the lady told him.

He felt like his head was going to explode, and before he passed out again, he wondered if this was what freedom was like.

....

They sent him to a home, and told him they would care for him there. There were several other children there, but Tyler felt different. He told the adults that he had no parents, he was raised in a basement of men who had him do weird things, and the nice women shot him sympathetic looks. They put hands on his shoulders, they called him "sweetie" but Tyler felt uneasy.

Every Monday and Thursday he sat on a large green couch, and told one of the nice ladies everything that the mean men did to him and what they still do in his dreams.

They told him it was okay to eat in front of people, he didn't have to hide his food. They told him it was okay to speak to anyone and make friends. They told him it was okay to ask questions, and if he needed to yell, that was okay, too, because he was special.

But there were memories he held back from the nice lady, and when he heard shouting at night from two children who were fighting over a video game, he wouldn't tell the nice lady that he covered his ears and cried himself to sleep.

....

They gave him books, pencils, and paper, and he was the biggest kid in his class. The teacher allowed them to pick their own books for their weekly readings, but when Tyler picked memoirs on other children who grew up in abusive households, the teacher plucked the book from his hands, and replaced it with a Dr. Seuss book - a book that made no sense to Tyler, and was in no way enjoyable.

He didn't understand why the other kids found it entertaining.

....

Tyler was eighteen when he was able to move into his own small, but cozy apartment.

He met Josh on his ninteenth birthday.

He was on his way to the local library where he had worked for over a year now. It was the perfect fit for him - he didn't talk to many people, as he mainly stacked and sorted books. He only ever worked the register when they were short on staff, which didn't happen often.

Either way, he headed across the street to their local coffee shop. It was small, and didn't get much business but it was a business that had been in Ohio for over 75 years, so no one dared to put it out of business.

The first thing he noticed when he walked inside was the cashier with bright red hair. He was leaning with the side of his hip on the counter, talking to another co-worker. When Tyler approached he counter, the man turned his attention to him, and the other co-worker made his way to the back.

"Good afternoon, sir! What can I get started for you?" He asked.

"Um," Tyler looked up at the menu, and then back down at the employee. The name on his name tag was in chalk, and Joshua was written on it.

"I'll just have a black coffee, please," Tyler said, his voice quiet, and his eyes not quite meeting Joshua's.

"Okay," He said, typing the order into his register, "It's gonna be $2.75, please."

Tyler handed him cash, and turned his head to look around the café. There was a man and woman sitting at a table for two, having regular conversation with the occasional laugh. An old man sat in the corner, an empty cup by his side as he read through what looked like today's paper. Tyler's eyes traveled up toward the sides of the walls and looked at the artwork.

"Sir?"

Tyler whipped his head back around to where Joshua was holding his change out, a slightly entertained smirk on his face.

"Oh - sorry," Tyler apologized, taking the change from him.

"That's okay. I like the art here, too. I think it fits perfectly with the atmosphere," He said, looking at the same spot Tyler was pulled from a few seconds ago.

Tyler nodded, "Yeah, I agree. It's nice." He smiled politely, but did not meet the man's eyes.

"Are you new around here?" Joshua asked.

Tyler kept his focus on the area right below his eyes and shrugged, "Kind of. I moved here about a year ago."

Joshua nodded, "You work at the library?"

Tyler flicked his eyes up to meet Joshua's just for a moment, before he was reminded of why he didn't like to make eye contact.

"Why?"

He shrugged, "I see you across the street sometimes. There aren't many new faces around here that often, so it's easy to spot one." He chuckled, and Tyler mimicked his action. His coffee was set down on a counter next to Joshua, and he picked it up, handing it to Tyler.

"Thank you," Tyler mumbled out.

"No problem. And hey," He extended his hand, and Tyler hesitated before shaking it, "I'm Josh, by the way."

"Tyler," He responded.

Josh nodded, "Well, I'll see you again, Tyler. It was nice meeting you." He had a small smile on his face, and the skin on Tyler's chest burned.

"Nice meeting you too." He quickly made his was out of the small shop, and went straight into the employee room at the library, sitting down at a table and taking a deep breath.

And as Tyler looked around, there seemed to be many more shades of red than he remembered.

Red like the color of Josh's hair, and red like the color that Tyler saw when he closed his eyes at night.

Stopping at the coffee shop for Tyler's lunch break quickly became a routine.

Days turned to weeks (but in a good way). When Josh was behind the counter, he'd make casual chat with him, and there'd usually be a joke somewhere in there.

Usually, Josh wrote "Tyler :)" on the coffee cup.

One day, he wrote "Tyler ;)" on the cup, followed by his phone number.

And on the next day, Tyler wore a bright red shirt and Josh pointed out that it was the same shade as his hair. It was playful and it was fun, and when Tyler couldn't sleep at night he liked to think of how maybe Josh was his friend.

"Hey, do you like music?" Josh asked him one day on his lunch break. They were sat at one of the tables together, drinking coffee and eating deli sandwhiches.

Tyler shrugged, "Yeah. Why?"

"Well, on Friday and Saturday nights we do a music night. You should stop by for tomorrow's show."

"What's special about tomorrow's show?"

Josh sat up straight, "Well, I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I play the drums. And my band is playing tomorrow."

Tyler chuckled, "Wow, that is impressive."

Josh looked at him for a second.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

Tyler laughed now, his sandwhich halfway up to his mouth, "No, I'm not! It is impressive. The drums are really cool."

Josh still eyed him, even though Tyler wasn't making eye contact. He only looked into Josh's eyes every few sentences, the rest of his focus usually pointed somewhere around Josh's chin, or his neck.

"They are cool. And it would be even cooler if you were there," Josh said.

Blush crept up Tyler's neck, "Alright," He said, "I'll be there."

"Good."

Josh smiled victoriously, and Tyler smiled softly back. He was excited to see the show.

He was excited to see the show, weather Josh was going to be playing or not. That's what he told himself.

....

Tyler walked into the coffee shop and there was actually a crowd there. Not a large crowd, but a bigger crowd than he had ever encountered at the small shop. He immediately made his way towards the back, telling himself that there was no reason for him to get overwhelmed. They were all just regular people.

He scanned the crowd: girl, boy, short, tall, dark, light. People of all varieties were there.

Tyler breathed deeply. He put his hands in his pockets, and looked around for Josh. Except, of course, he was nowhere to be seen.

So he leaned his back up against the glass, and waited. It was about five minutes before a small group of people made their way onto the makeshift stage. Some carrying a guitar, and then he spotted Josh, carrying nothing but two drumsticks. They took their places and somehow, through the large group of people, Josh's eyes connected against the glass

He smiled and waved, and Tyler copied the action. He tried to make himself look as comfortable as possible, but it clearly didn't work, as Josh shot him a look of concern.

Tyler felt overwhelmed, he felt uncomfortable, he wanted to cry, he wanted to explode.

He knew he wasn't much good in large groups or in social situations in general. He shouldn't have agreed to come here. He should be at home and in bed.

He shouldn't have been there.

It was too late to back out, as the guitars began to strum, Josh started to play his drums, and singing began to fill the room.

People stood still and watched until the song picked up, and bodies began to do more than sway. They shouted, they danced, and a few people even sang along. They were pushinng each other around, and Tyler couldn't breathe. It was just too much - it was all so much.

So he made his way towards the door.

He went as discreetly as possible, hoping Josh didn't see him.

The second the night air hit Tyler's body, he felt a mixture of regret and relief.

He looked around at the people on the street. There was a lady with long blond hair jogging across the street, and she had a petite frame.

Tyler's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a vein in his neck twitch. He needed to get out of there.

He needed to be alone, away from everyone.

His breathing was heavy and when tears stung his eyes, he bit his lip so hard that blood began to flow. It tasted like iron; like stale air and dark rooms.

He got into his car and broke the speed limit on the way home.

But home wasn't safe either.

It was too dark. Tyler went around flicking on every single light, and inspecting every nook and cranny.

Tears were falling from his eyes, and his skin itched. He wanted to rip himself open - to rid himself of the ants that crawled beneath his arms and inbetween his thighs.

He hugged himself tight, but when he closed his eyes he saw blood and semon - there was so much, and it was all over his mattress.

He quickly opened his eyes. He looked up at the light on the ceiling and the light was blinding, but it was distracting. It was good.

He sank down to the floor, and curled into himself as tight as he could, but he didn't close his eyes.

He was startled by the sound of his phone ringing.

He took it out of his pocket and of course, it was Josh.

He let it ring once.

Then a text message tone.

A few minutes later, and another call.

This time he answered.

"Tyler? Are you okay?" Was the first thing that Josh asked.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine. I just-"

"You're not fine," Josh interrupted, "You're crying. Did someone do something to you?"

Tyler's breath hitched before a waterfall of tears streamed down his cheeks. Technically, the answer was yes, but he didn't want Josh to know just how dirty he was. He had been keeping up a nice façade, but the longer their phone call when on, the more it crumbled.

"Tyler..." Josh said, and Tyler could hear the sympathy in his voice.

He didn't want sympathy.

He wanted salvation.

Tyler took the phone from next to his ear and hung up the call, just as Josh was about to say something else. He ignored one, two, three, four calls before they stopped coming.

He got one, two, three text messages that he didn't read or respond to. 

Tyler felt weak, he felt grimy, and he felt used. Almost as if he had never left the basement he was raised in.

And when Tyler fell asleep, it wasn't because he wanted to - his head was so dizzy, his throat so dry, that he passed out against the living room wall.

He did not dream that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Tyler avoided the coffee shop as if it were the manifestation of the plague itself. During his lunch breaks, he sat in the break room and drank water rather than coffee. His heart froze over at every shade of red, and whenever someone mentioned going to the shop across the street, he remained silent. 

He was embarrassed, yes, but mostly angry. He was angry at himself for thinking he could have a friend. He knew he was too socially obtuse, and carrier far too much baggage for someone to voluntarily want to spend time with him. And now that Josh could infer that Tyler was actually a mess, he was sure he'd never hear from him again. 

Tyler's mind was blank and his heart was heavy as he stood in the children's section of the library, resorting the books that they had left a mess. He picked up a Dr. Seuss book, and stared at the cover. 

_Oh, the Places You'll Go!_

Tyler flipped through the pages and then looked up at the two children who were sharing a bean bag in the corner, reading a book together. One of them was reading aloud to the other one, and the other paid close attention, as if he were studying for a test. They were so small, so fragile, and so gullible.

Tyler looked back down at the book and read a passage:

_Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying. You'll find the bright places where Broom Bands are playing._

His neck vein twitched, and he put the book down. He never understood why children liked these books - they hardly carried any weight.

"Tyler?" Someone called from behind him, startling him from his thoughts. He whipped around and, the first thing he saw was bright red hair.

"Josh?" Tyler asked, more to himself than anyone.

"Hey, I've been trying to get in contact with you. I - you never answer your phone."

Tyler frowned and looked at the book in his hands. The title became more and more sardonic as he looked at it. He set it down on the shelf next to him.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Josh carefully placed his hand on the back of Tyler's elbow, "You don't have to apologize, Tyler. I know there's a lot I don't know about you, but. I'd like to learn." His voice raised in pitch at the end, as if he were asking a question.

Tyler's eyes flicked up to Josh's for a second, only to find they were honest, and gentle. The way they always seemed to be.

Tyler wrung his fingers, "Really?"

"Yes, really. I like talking to you."

Tyler swallowed and nodded, "Would you - do you maybe wanna come over? After your shift?"

Josh's expression lit up, "Yeah, I'd love to. I get off at six."

"Okay. I'm off at four, so. I'll text you my address later."

Josh left the library much happier than he came in, and Tyler felt a tangle of knots in his stomach. He knew he owed Josh some sort of explination, but he wished he could never tell him anything, and they could continue to be friends, and Tyler's façade would never crumble.

But alas, he was weak-willed. 

So he allowed his heart to guide him home, and he shut off his brain in order to send Josh his address.

He jumped from his couch when there was a knock at the door.

"Hey," Josh said, his hair hidden beneath a beanie. He looked warm and cozy, and Tyler wished he could fall right into his persona and be as comfortable as he looked.

"Hi. Come in," Tyler said, opening the door all the way, and letting Josh walk in. He walked carefully, looking around the house as if he were searching for something.

The skin under Tyler's hoodie started to burn when he noticed Josh's eyes flicking back and forth between the excessive amount of light sources. From lamps, to ceiling lights, to glow-in-the-dark wall mounts, Josh surveyed it all.

When he turned towards Tyler, he had his eyes on his feet, with no intention of making eye contact.

"You don't like the dark?" Josh asked.

Tyler shook his head, not looking up.

Josh walked up to Tyler, and he was closer than he had ever been in the past. Tyler wasn't uncomfortable - no, just unsure. 

"Is that why you left? Last week?"

Tyler shook his head again. He looked up, but kept his eyes around the lower half of Josh's face, as he tended to do. 

"I - there was a lot of people. I get really nervous around people. I can't -" Tyler wrung his hands together, the skin turning white, then red. He bit his lip, and Josh put his hands on Tyler's shoulders softly.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to explain anything you're not ready to," He said. Tyler stared downwards, his hands burning as he wrung them tighter and tighter.

Josh pulled him into a hug, and Tyler was surprised at first, as he didn't react. But then his expression softened, and he wrapped his arms around Josh the same way Josh had his around him. He was an insignificant amount shorter, but his chest was broader, his temperature warmer, and his heartbeat steadier. Tyler indulged himself and melted into the embrace.

And Josh wasn't phased at all when Tyler started to cry. 

He was crying because he never really seemed to stop crying, but in some foreign way, Josh understood. He held Tyler tightly and breathed deeply when Tyler didn't.

He was the moon, Tyler was the nearest star.

He was a helium pump, Tyler was a balloon.

He a long-lost life preserve, and Tyler had been born to drown.

"It's okay," Josh whispered, running his hands through Tyler's hair.

"I'm so afraid," Tyler admitted. It was quiet, and it was meant for the air, but Josh hear every syllable.

"What are you afraid of?"

"They - they're gonna find me, Josh. I know they are."

Josh hesitated before he asked the next question, as if he was afraid of the answer.

"Who's they?"

Tyler broke the embrace and wiped his eyes. He sniffled, and he knew he looked like a mess, but it didn't matter in the moment. His brain was screaming, _Don't tell him! Don't tell him!_ But his heart was begging him to open the floodgates that could only be reinforced so many times before they broke.

"They locked me up when I was five and they - they - Josh, they made me feel so bad." Tyler began to sob now, and his words were almost indecipherable. 

Josh stood there with his arms by his side, staring at Tyler for a second. Tyler looked into his eyes, and he had such a wide array of emotions dancing around, Tyler looked back down at his hands that he began to wring again.

"Oh, Tyler," Josh sighed, bringing him back into his arms - only tighter this time. Tyler could hardly breathe, but not because the air was filled with smoke and stung his lungs. But Josh clearly didn't understand. If he knew what Tyler was talking about, he wouldn't be holding him close and stroking his hair. He'd be pushing him away and slamming the front door shut and it would only be fair.

"You don't - Josh, I'm _dirty_ , I'm fucking gross-"

"Don't say that about yourself," Josh interjected sternly.

Tyler shivered and Josh sighed.

"What happened to you wasn't your fault, Tyler," He whispered.

Tyler broke down once again, but Josh was there holding him up, and he was sure that if Josh wasn't here, he would've spent another night sobbing around his bright lights.

Josh gently guided Tyler to the couch and sat him down, letting Tyler rest against his chest as he cried and cried, practically ruining Josh's shirt. Tyler felt embarassed, and he felt he didn't deserve Josh's companionship.

He wiped his eyes and looked up at Josh, who had the same look on his face as he did a few minutes ago.

"You're not going to leave?" He asked.

Josh shook his head, "No. I want to stay here with you."

Tyler coughed, and Josh patted him on the back. 

"I'm just going to go to bed," He said, looking down at his feet. Josh didn't say anything, just kept his hand on Tyler's back, rubbing up and down. 

He looked in Josh's general direction, "Can you come with me, please?"

Josh nodded, "Of course."

Tyler grabbed his hand and guided him to his bedroom, and he layed down, shivering due to the cold outside the house, and the cold inside his bones. He reached to his nightstand a clicked the on button on a small remote he had, and suddenly a nightlight from the corner of the room shot a beam of light, displaying a galaxy on the ceiling. 

It was beautiful, actually.

Josh climbed into the bed, and wrapped the blanket around both of them, snuggling up behind Tyler and draping his arm over his waist.

Tyler turned and buried his face in the crook of Josh's neck.

"Thank you," He said, his voice still shaky.

"You're welcome," Josh responded. 

A few short minutes passed before Tyler's breathing evened out, but Josh couldn't sleep. His eyes were wide open and staring at the wall ahead of him, holding Tyler close and trying as best as he could to keep his composure.

....

When Tyler woke up, he wasn't scared. It was still pitch black outside, but there was light around the room and there was light holding him close, his arms snug around Tyler.

Tyler deeply sighed, and let his eyelids flutter shut once more.

There was light all around him, and he felt safe.

....

Josh stayed with Tyler on his bad nights, and even on his good nights.

On good days, they played Monopoly, they watched Netflix, and they drank lemonade.

On bad days, Tyler cried and Josh held him tightly, because somehow Josh knew it was all going to be okay.

("They - they killed her. They killed her. I know they did."

"Who did they kill?"

"My friend - she was my only friend and they killed her."

Tyler sobbed violently, his breathing unsteady as usual.)

"Maybe you should see a professional," Josh would suggest. Tyler would decline. He had already had a therapist when he was younger, he said, and he didn't like it. They didn't help him, they just pointed out his flaws and made him feel bad. 

But when Josh would wake Tyler up because he was screaming for help in his sleep, Josh wondered if he would ever learn the whole story. He knew the general information, but there was so much Tyler couldn't get out and Josh felt so bad. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how.

Tyler always told him what the men did to him in his dreams, and in his dreams he was never older than thirteen.

Josh felt sick to his stomach, but he listened.

And really, Tyler couldn't have asked for a better human being to come into contact with.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Josh asked one night, looking at Tyler who was standing with his back against the hallway.

It had been a long day - Tyler saw too many men that he thought he recognized while grocery shopping, but he was lucky enough to have had Josh there, who quickly took him home and tried to comfort him as he came down from his panic attack.

Tyler looked to the ground and nodded.

Josh took two steps forward, and gently grasped Tyler's hand, drawing Tyler's attention upwards.

Tyler tried to look into Josh's eyes - he really did, but he knew he'd see everything that he never had before. 

"Tyler," Josh said quietly. And he knew that was his cue to look up.

So he did. And Josh's expression was just as he feared - kind and soft; so so soft. And if Tyler knew what love looked like, he'd think it looked similar to Josh.

The hallway was dimly lit, but in the moment, Tyler wasn't scared. When he had someone he cherished to deeply looking so fondly into his eyes, he really had nothing to fear.

"You don't have to be ashamed. I like being with you."

Tyler's breath hitched, and he nodded, looking back down to his feet.

Josh started walking, still holding Tyler's hand as he guided him towards the room. Tyler laid down in his usual spot, only this time his back wasn't facing Josh. But he didn't hide his face in Josh's neck either.

He let Josh cuddle him so close that their breaths intermingled, and Tyler watched his eyes carefully. He decided in that moment, he would make eye contact with Josh, and no matter what he saw, he would not look away.

Tyler felt his heart climbing up his ribcage and making his way towards his throat, and the next words that came out of his own mouth scared him.

"Can you kiss me?"

Josh's expression was startled, but only for a second, as he nodded and then connected his lips with Tyler's. The kiss was soft (everything was soft with Josh), and Tyler felt his heart lift from his chest, almost as if it had stopped beating completely. He saw light under his eyelids, and it was so different, but so good.

Josh set his hand on the small of Tyler's back, and pushed them closer together, their mouths moving in sync. 

It didn't take long before the kiss got heated and Tyler was inserting one of his legs between both of Josh's.

He didn't know what he needed, but he needed _something_. The back of his mind was racing and Josh moaned deeply when Tyler's leg pressed against his groin.

Josh gently pushed Tyler down so that his back was on the mattress, and he was hovering over him.

"Is this okay?" Josh asked quietly.

Tyler swallowed, "Y-yeah, it's fine. Good. It's good."

Josh kissed him softly, but passionately, and ground his hips onto Tyler, eliciting a tortured moan. Tyler tangled his hands in the back of Josh's hair, pulling him down, and they were so attached it was Tyler no longer felt any boundaries. He didn't know where he ended and Josh started. He didn't know where he was, but he was here and he was with Josh, and he was being handled in a way he had never been handled before. 

He tried to not to think about the million men that he had been intimate with before. Because none of them were like _this_.

None of them were Josh, and at least that was special.

Tyler bucked his hips up to meet Josh halfway, and they made sounds into each other's mouths. 

Josh unbuckled Tyler's pants, sliding them down with his underwear, exposing his cock that was rock hard against his belly. Josh pulled his own pants off and when he ground against Tyler again, it was so much more satisfying.

Tyler gasped and broke the kiss off, throwing his head down onto his pillow. Josh rocked them back and forth, kissing at Tyler's neck, and leaving small little marks. 

"Josh," Tyler panted, his hands tightening in the other boy's hair.

Josh rocked faster, being encouraged by Tyler's noises. It wasn't long until Tyler was shooting streaks of white all over his chest, and Josh followed closely, letting himself paint Tyler.

Josh collapsed onto the spot of the bed right next to Tyler, and breathed deeply while staring up at the ceiling. He looked next to him at Tyler, whose eye's were squeezed shut.

"Are you okay?" Josh asked.

Tyler's eyes shot open, looking at Josh. Something flashed through his eyes so quickly that anyone would've dismissed it. Nevertheless, Tyler nodded.

Josh got up wordlessly and went into the bathroom, bring in a wet cloth to wipe down the both of them with. When he layed back down, he snuggled close to Tyler, and he was relieved to see just how relaxed Tyler looked.

He leaned in to kiss Tyler slowly, and the air that encased their feelings in the moment was the only air that Tyler ever wanted to breathe again.

Tyler broke off the kiss and looked Josh in the eyes, "I want to tell you everything," He whispered.

Josh ran his fingers through Tyler's hair, "Take your time," He whispered back, "I'm not going anywhere."

And he didn't. Because in three days when Tyler told him that his mother gave him away to a stranger that told him they were going to the dentist, Josh nodded along.

And a week later, when Tyler told Josh about Maggie's sliced tongue and bloody head, Josh held Tyler close.

And three months later, when Josh asked what the scars between Tyler's thighs were, and he told him about the one man who cut him open on several occasions, Josh understood.

He never told Tyler that he cried too much, he never questioned why certain things gave Tyler extreme anxiety while other's didn't.

And two and a half years later, when they stood beneath an altar together, placing rings on shaky hands, Tyler shed salty tears. But not a salty like anger and bad attitudes; salty like candy and butterscotch. A good salty.

Tyler really couldn't have asked for a more perfect human being to have come in contact with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all, I hope this story wasn't too hard to read (as it was a bit nerve-wracking to post). I was inspired by the song _A Million Men_ , by Melanie Martinez, and, unfortunately, my actual childhood.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave any questions, comments, or concerns.  
> Stay alive, friends.


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